


Hypersensitivity

by Salarka



Series: Sensory Integration [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Autism Spectrum, I saw stupid youtube comments and decided to do something positive, Multi, but it's coming, the rydaal content won't appear for a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salarka/pseuds/Salarka
Summary: Pathfinder. It’s a title she was never meant to have, and she’s trying to save a program that she never wanted to be part of in the first place. Now, with the fate of 100,000 people depending on her, many doubt that she can handle the pressure. In her own mind, Sara Ryder isn’t sure she can.A series of one-shots focusing on my Ryder, and the challenges she ends up facing in the Andromeda galaxy, both externally and internally.





	Hypersensitivity

**Author's Note:**

> So, a couple of things. My Sara's on the lower end of the spectrum in regards to autism, and would likely be diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome if that was still considered a valid diagnosis. Given what is stated by the game/backstory (and based on my personal experience with the disorder), I could easily see Sara being... overwhelmed at times. Such drama is good for stories, so expect more Andromeda content from me in the future.xD

 

It’s all she can do to keep from having her breakdown, right out in the open.

 

Sara had barely managed to get through those initial steps- pre-flight checks; meeting with Kallo and Suvi, making sure Liam and Cora managed to get themselves settled in ( _It’s what Dad would have done, it’s what they expect)._ They had the location of Eos, and the Tempest was already underway. She was, for the moment… free.

 

She managed to get to the Pathfinder’s quarters ( _Dad’s quarters-no, mine, they’re mine)_ without any external sign- well, besides her hand twitching spastically, like it would do whenever she was about to flip out- damn body, it always seemed to betray her at the worst times. Sara made herself take a deep breath, as she heard the telltale chime of the door close behind her. She checked the omni-tool, making sure that it was locked. If anyone- Liam, Gil, Vetra, anyone who didn’t really know her- walked in on her in this state, they would lose what little sense of respect that they may have had for her.

 

Taking another breath, Sara turned towards the wide, wide windows, and let herself go.

 

Screaming, and crying. Fists smacked against windows and other hard surfaces, biotics flaring slightly with her distress. She couldn’t think anymore, not in words at least. Everything seemed to be closing on her, and she was lashing out, struggling to make it all just STOP.

 

It could have lasted five minutes, or it could have lasted an hour. Time ceased to matter in the middle of a meltdown, when every sense of higher-functioning Sara had just… stopped. Sara hated that part the most- that she couldn’t _think_ anymore, that all the skills and training she had gained over the years were gone.

 

Finally, _finally…_ Sara managed to claw her way back into rationality. She finds herself facedown on the bed, her hands clutching the silky comforter tightly, so tightly. One good thing, so far- the texture of the bed is perfect, calming.

 

Sara slowly, slowly, releases her hold on the comforter, her hands already starting to ache and hurt. The rest of her would starting hurting soon enough, so might as well get used to it. She flexed her hands slightly, making sure that nothing was broken, at least.

 

_“Are you in pain, Sara?”_

She started again, sitting bolt upright with a hoarse yelp. It took a second for her to remember- _SAM_ \- and that hearing another voice in her head was fine, and that she wasn’t going crazy,

 

“…No.” She finally managed to say, swinging her legs over to sit on the bed. “No… not yet, anyways.” Sara exhaled slowly, forcing herself to lean forward. “…How much did you see?”

 

_“Of your outburst? All of it, Pathfinder.”_

“Of course,” she muttered to herself, placing her head in her (now clearly aching) hands. “Fuck.”

 

_“Do you need more time alone?”_

Sara started again, this time with confusion. “I- “ she stopped, looking up towards the still-sealed door. “No… just…give me a minute.”

 

“ _Counting down from 59 seconds…”_

“What? No, no-” She waved towards his terminal, which was sitting on her ( _not Dad’s, not Dad’s)_ desk. “I wasn’t being literal, SAM. I just... can’t think.”  
  
_“Given your current cortisol levels, and the presence of external stressors, your lack of ability to think rationally is expected.”_

 

Sara stared, dumbfounded, for a minute. Finally, she forced herself to relax, and let out a short snort. “Yeah… not quite what I meant, SAM.”

 

_“Then, what did you mean?”_

Her gaze shifted down towards the floor, the empty silence pushing her down. “I meant… you know, right SAM? About… me?”

 

_“About your disorder? The details are documented in your Alliance service record.”_

“Yeah, I thought so… but my… outburst…”

 

_“I had access to the vast majority of your father’s memories, Pathfinder. I was able to recognize your behavior.”_

Sara let out a sigh, and fell back on the bed, struggling to get herself to relax. “Okay- yeah, that makes sense. I hadn’t had a meltdown like that for… years, I think.”

 

“ _According to you father’s memories, that is a close estimate.”_

Sara let the silence fall, focusing on making her breathing even. _One breath in, one breath out. One breath in…_

It was an old technique, back when she was a child. These outbursts happened at least once a week back then, and the child psychologist had taught it to her, as a way for her to get her emotions under control. Whether or not it had any positive effect on controlling her behavior was irrelevant- it was habit, routine, _normalcy,_ things that were currently in short supply.

 

Finally, she spoke again. “SAM… can I do this? With everything, with all the problems…. Can I even handle this at all?”

 

She honestly wasn’t expecting an answer. It was a verbalization of her fears, of everything that had been piled on her over the past couple of days, and her own inadequacies that made her so wrong for the role of ”Pathfinder.” Sara felt that she was drowning, being attacked from all sides, and that she- her own mind, and her own personality- would break from the strain.

 

The answer did come. _“I draw my conclusions only from the data I have currently gathered, both from my experiences with your father, and you. I cannot guarantee success- the current variables are too unpredictable for that- but I do know that your father put everything he could into the Initiative, and that he was not an overly emotional man. He believed you could succeed, that you could overcome the problems potentially encountered by a Pathfinder. Those were his thoughts.”_

Sara let out a false laugh. “So he… what, he had faith in me?”

 

_“He did.”_

Sara stared up at the ceiling, and SAM continued. “ _He also believed that you did not acknowledge your own strengths enough, and that you limited yourself based on your own lack of self-worth. He hoped that, given time… you would overcome those beliefs.”_

Sara continued to stare up at the ceiling, counting her own heartbeat. “Yeah, but… autism isn’t something you just _overcome,_ SAM. It’s ingrained into my thoughts, my responses… it’s _part_ of me.”

 

SAM fell silent again, though just for a moment. Sara kept her hard stare on the ceiling, feeling her body start to return to normal. Finally, SAM responded again. “ _That is true. However, your father did not believe in simply overcoming challenges. Rather, he believed in using resources, utilizing what was available, to create change. That, he believed, was the key to success.”_

Sara took another deep breath, and forced herself to sit up. “So, what you’re saying is… we just have to try?”

 

_“And use what we have available, to the best of our abilities.”_

Sara took one more breath, feeling herself finally settle down. She moved to stand up, gently bracing herself against the nearby window. “I guess…. I guess I can do that.”

 

A small shot of pain arced up her hand, settling into her wrist. Sara winced. “Damn,” she muttered, “Maybe I should go and see Lexi… but how do I explain- ”

 

_“Dr. T’Perro has already received your full medical records, Pathfinder. She will most likely be able to guess what has occurred.”_

Sara slumped against the window, and started to grumble to herself. “Great, just… great.”


End file.
